Backstabbers And Avengers
by Devilish Opera
Summary: Bison had finally realized a way to achieve immortality; Wolverine's Adamantium. Who would stop him? No one, except for maybe a former Shadaloo Doll, and a few uncanny avengers... Rated M for blood,sadism,sex,blah,blah,blah...
1. Extraction

I pushed opened the rotting wood door and took a quick glance at my surroundings. This bar, the Dirty Santos, definitley didn't seem like some place I would spend my free time. It was dark, and the only sounds you heard were men swearing and more beer being poured. I felt out of place with my yellow tie, and baby blue cap and leotard. Fortunately I was there for one person only; I found him in a booth in a corner, smoking a cigarette and tossing back a Jack Daniels. I approached the booth and took a seat.

"Would you happen to be a Logan Cross?"

His glance never left the window. "Yeah, whats it to you?"

"May I have a word with you outside?"

"No."

"I understand. Maybe your brother Victor will be more understanding."

His gaze pierced my heart, eyes filled with feral rage. "What do you know about Sabretooth?"

"Follow me and you'll find out."

He tossed back his beer and begrudgingly followed me outside.

In the pale moonlight, I could see the anger slowly building up inside of him. "Okay toots, you got me. Now tell me what the hell your talking about."

I looked directly at him, no emotions at all. "My...boss, Michael Bison has heard of your unique talents, and requests an audience with you. I can take you to him directly."

"Whats the catch?"

I straightened my hat and smiled. "I was told not to take no for an answer."

"Really..." Metal claws jutted from each of his knuckles. "I think you may be failing this mission, toots."

In a split second he lunged at me. I rolled out of the way, only for him to grab my leg and fling me against the wall of the bar. It was painful, but I caught myself and was back on my feet in an instant.

"come on kid! The shows just startin'!" He walked a little closer, falling right into my trap. I quickly turned around and shoved my boot into his chin. He went flying into the air, but that was not the end. I quickly jumped and, grabbing him by the throat , flung him into a tree.

He stopped moving. After walking up and inspecting him closely, I presumed him to be knocked out.

I turned around and began to call for pickup. Only for a claw to become implanted in my back. "You thought you had me, didn't you?" He pushed the claws in deeper. "Actually...your just where I... want you!" Fighting against my body's resistance, I turned around, pulling out the claw in the process, and punched him squarely in the face. He stumbled back, caught off guard, and I quickly leapt onto his shoulders,legs tightening around his neck.

"Get off...of me.." He said between gasps.

"Gladly." I threw my body backwards and slammed his head against the grounds, Though I didn't release my legs until I was sure he had stopped moving. I stood up and called for transportation. I looked down, watched in disgust as the deep wound on his head closed and reformed the skin and meat around it, halting the blood-flow and repairing his broken head. This was who Bison wanted?


	2. Recovery

Kidnapping is a funny thing; They never respond the way you want to, and when they do, its after months of torture. Thankfully Logan was more willing to listen.

"You see," Bison said, stroking his chin. "Your adamantium skeleton and healing abilities are of much use to me- I mean to Shadaloo and the free world. If we could somehow Isolate this gene- with your permission of course- We could improve the durability of the human race in general."

Logan was not a fool,however. "Whats the catch?"

"Once we isolate the mutation, until we successively clone it, you will be effectively human."

I knew what his response would be. "No."

"Cammy?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir." And quickly kicked him in the side of the head, rendering him unconscious.

"Shall I take him to the operating room?"

"On the double."

The operation took hours. Blood would constantly mix with the bone marrow, contaminating the gene. It took forever, but eventually they were able to isolate to gene, and it made its way to R&D in a matter of minutes. However, as they debated what to do with his barely living body, a crash was heard outside the operation dome, I glanced up at the ceiling, and could only quickly roll from the debris falling from the damaged ceiling. Out of the sky descended an army-grade Blackbird jet, as Bison's army rushed in, a small, uncanny group of people emerged.

Bison's army did not stand a chance.

One of them shot lasers from his eyes, and was tearing the infantry apart. I tried to make my way over to him, only for a heavy blue foot to catch me in my face. I stumbled right into a large Russian man with a body of metal. Before he could get his arms around me, I introduced him to my patented Cannon Spike. It hurt like hell on my foot, but It did knock him backward, enough for me to regain my own balance.

"Fall back!" I yelled at the remaining soldiers. The strange mutants were too strong, and Bison's army was not prepared for this kind of thing. The best we could do was fall back and warn Bison about our impending threat. As we all fled for our lives, the man with the laser eyes saw me leading the soldiers away, and as I turned to join the AWOL soldiers, I felt his white-hot plasma on the back of my head. My body temperature shot up, and I felt as if I was in the throes of hell itself as darkness clouded my vision.

As I lost consciousness, something occurred to me, something I had never thought of again.

Why?

I knew of Bison's true intentions; He did not in anyway intend this to help the free world. He would be unkillable, nothing could stop him. So I had to ask; Why? Why was I helping him with his ill-gotten gains? And then it all came flooding back to me.

Guilt.

All the people I've killed, the lives I've destroyed. To help this man wit his ill-gotten gains. Why? It was then, I decided I had to atone for this mistake, their had to be something, anything I could do. If Bison accomplished this, his ultimate goal, He would be unstoppable. That was something I had to accomplish. The only thing I felt I could do, was destroy the very gene that caused all of this. An image followed all of my thoughts.

Logan.

Logan was a hero. I had just effectively killed off an American Hero. To Destroy the gene would be to murder the his whole existence. The gene was Logan's birthright, and It would be his.

One thing kept resonating in my soul:

Would I have to do this alone?


	3. Subject

Guilt.

Sin.

Lust.

Penance.

Murder.

Retribution.

Revenge.

Revenge.

Revenge...?

"What the hell?"

I was thrust from my from in a way so unnatural. It was if I was...forced, to say the least. I was thrown from my dream into a stark white room. The Shadaloo Infirmary. I was panting, with beads of sweat cascading down my forehead. I looked around. My room was secluded from the others, surrounded by a white tarp. Not the kind for hospital rooms, mind you;

The kind used for surgery.

Sure enough, as the tarp was parted, there was a crowd of people surrounding me as if I was lab rat. All my senses slowly began to return. First was hearing. There was the sound of applause. Everyone was clapping. I even heard laughter the next room over. Next was taste. My mouth was dry, dryer than the desert. Then, smell: the room was full of chemical fumes. Embalming fluid was in the air. And the one that scared me the most, mind you?

Touch,or more importantly, feeling.

My body was not the same. I felt more sturdy. Dense. My bones felt like metal. But what scared me most of all, was that it felt..._natural._ I moved my hand only slightly,only for it to be slammed back down to the cold,metal table by none other than Bison. He raised his other hand, signaling the crowd to cease.

"The subject has been successfully implanted with the adamantium gene," he was using his "projection" voice as he called it, the one used to woo crowds. "She already is experiencing the positive side-effects including stronger and sharper senses, and increased bone durability. But most importantly, instant healing. Let me demonstrate..." He grinned picking up a large blade on the table next to mine. Before I could respond, He brought the blade down above my elbow.

I swear to God I have never screamed like that in my life. From moment I had lost feeling in my arm, I though I would die on the table. He held my severed forearm above him like a trophy, blood jetting from the ruptured wound. He lowered it over my chest, the liberated blood running down my forearm had begun a slow descent down my breast, with the stump laying on the table turning it a brilliant crimson.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He said, sadistically running the limp up and down my breasts. I was at an absolute lost for words. "And now..!" He held the limp next to my stump,both of which were bleeding profusely. To my astonishment, The remaining strands of skin, down to the last fiber, began to re-thread themselves into one. In a matter of seconds, my arm was back to normal, with complete feeling, down to the fingertips. I moved it hesitantly, for fear it would fall off again.

"A success!" More roars of applause. He looked down at me one more time, his smile faded. "You are no longer necessary."

"Bison..." was all I could get out, before I felt the blade brought down on my neck.

Bison...

Bison...

I awoke slowly, more naturally. I was no longer in the operating room, but now a comfortable living room. A sweet old woman sat in a rocking chair, knitting

a hat unlike my own. "Good morning,dearie." she said in that calm senior voice.

"Um, excuse me miss, but how did I get here?"

She never stopped knitting. "My husband and my son found you out in the woods. Your hair was a mess, and that hat of yours was tattered. Your strange outfit is OK, though."

I suddenly felt terrible for wearing my favorite outfit.

"Just rest dearie, your still tired."

Part of me contemplated how she knew that, but the rest was tiring, so I nodded away for a second, only to transform into a deep sleep.


End file.
